


Set Fire to the Rain

by setos_puppy



Category: Glee
Genre: Creeper Will, M/M, batman villian au, mentions of past creepiness, this is ancient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setos_puppy/pseuds/setos_puppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel hasn't been normal for a long time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Fire to the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I'm only posting this here because this is one of the old Glee AU fics I made that I'm actually super proud of. Hosting this here because it'll be easier for people to find than in the lost abyss of my Livejournal. This was written months and months ago and sat collecting dust on my harddrive. Inspired by long ago conversations on Tumblr with friends after a picture of Poison Ivy Kurt popped up. It devolved into a brain eating process of figuring out who was what and where they went and how they fit in with various "Batman" villains. Yeah, I'm insane.

“Up you get, we're going to be late.”

 

David's soft, baritone voice spoke through the room lit by the setting sun, setting the room ablaze with reds and golds. A figure stirred on the obscenely large, lush bed and rose an arm over its head. The man in the bed sat up slowly, yawning as he stretched and ran a hand through his hair, rusty, yet vibrant copper red and brown, with even lighter highlights that was natural despite the shocking colour. He opened a sleepy eye and looked to the doorway and to his companion, a large, intimidating hulk of a man dressed up in a well tailored suit and fiddling with his tie. 

 

“It's boring to be on time, David,” the figure on the bed drawled, his voice high and alluring, as he stretched his arms toward the ceiling and let out a happy sigh. 

 

“If we're late Blaine is going to get annoyed, Kurt.” David said, frowning at his reflection and his messy, askew tie. 

 

Kurt laughed and waved a hand, pushing himself out of bed and giving another languid stretch, unashamed of his naked body as he worked out the kinks of sleep out of his body. “Blaine's one to talk, he's always late.”

 

David tracked Kurt as the other male moved across the room, almost glowing in the late evening sun, his pale skin illuminated in a way that looked ethereal. Kurt opened the massive closet and peered inside, tilting his head to ponder his clothing selection. He pulled out a pair of black jeans before turning them in his hands and placed them back on the rack. He ran his fingers over the hangers before pulling out a pair of charcoal tailored pants and tossed them over his shoulder onto the bed. Next followed a matching button-down vest. Humming, Kurt pulled out an emerald green button down before shelving it almost immediately and instead pulled out a soft, pale sea green shirt and shrugged it on and buttoned it. 

 

“I like that colour on you,” David muttered, ripping his tie off in frustration. 

 

Kurt tossed Dave a smile over his shoulder as he pulled on a pair of boxer-briefs and his pants, tucking his shirt in with care and buckling his belt. Thumbing through a wide selection of ties, Kurt pulled out a deep forest green bow tie to offset the pale, soft colour of his shirt and tied it with expertise before pulling on his vest. 

 

“C'mere,” Kurt drawled, motioning towards himself with his fingers and taking David's tie. He tilted his head, pushing up on his toes and made quick work of the tie, tying it in a half-windsor knot without a fuss. “There.” Kurt patted Dave's shoulder with a smile. “I love you in a suit, there's just something about the facade that's insanely appealing.”

 

Dave smirked and stepped back, adjusting his lapels with a roll of his shoulders before glancing down at his watch. “We have ten minutes.”

 

Kurt nodded distractedly and crossed to his vanity, flicking on the light and squinting at the harshness of the florescence. He picked up a comb and worked it through his hair with care, styling it exactly how he wanted it before picking up a can of environmentally friendly hairspray and worked it over his hair, freezing the style. Tilting his chin and looking at his reflection in the mirror, Kurt pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing at the very subtle green tinge to his skin. Clucking his tongue, Kurt shut his eyes as they rolled back slightly in his head and shifted in place. When he opened his eyes again, his skin was a pale, rosy hue and he smiled. 

 

“Your lips,” David observed, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt and jacket. 

 

Kurt pouted at his reflection, at his shockingly green lips, before picking up a tube of concealer. He uncapped it and worked it over his lips like lipstick, blotting it in with a mix of pink lip gloss to make his shade natural. Normally he wouldn't care, but when he was trying to pass as normal, and not a human-plant hybrid, every little detail counted. 

 

“Better?”

 

David studied Kurt's features before nodding his head in an approving manner and smiled widely. “I'd say you pass well.”

 

Kurt smiled, a quick, fleeting, joyous smile before he picked up a green waist length trench coat and buttoned it. “Bring an umbrella, it's going to rain.”

 

Dave opened his mouth to argue, to reply with snark that the news had said the next five days were going to be hot and dry before he closed his mouth. He knew better than to argue. He grabbed a wide-brimmed umbrella on their way out the door, following Kurt down to catch a taxi.

 

~*~

 

It was pouring by the time they arrived to their destination. A heavy, almost torrential downpour complete with thunder and lightning that had Kurt huddled against David's form under the trellis as they waited to be let inside the restaurant. Before long they were lead into the wide, inviting foyer and were shaking off their damp coats and umbrella. Kurt smiled softly at the maitre'd as he approached the seating station. 

 

“I have a reservation under the name of Ivy.”

 

The man looked up from his papers, unamused and looked over at Kurt, his upper lip curling a little in distaste. He looked down at his books, flipping through the pages. “Ah yes, a table for nine under...” The man barely held back the sneer. “Ivy.”

 

Kurt smiled up at the man pleasantly, blinking in a way that was almost too innocent. “That's me.” He offered a hand. “Kurt Hummel, head of Ivy Sciences.” 

 

The man's disposition changed instantly, his eyes widened and his mouth went slack as he took hold of Kurt's hand, shaking it vehemently. “Dr. Hummel! Of course, I'm so sorry.” He released Kurt's hand and fumbled with the papers and menus. “I'm--” He adjusted his collar, swallowing thickly. “I'm... Your room is still occupied, if you give me three minutes I'll find you a second room, I... Please excuse me.”

 

Kurt watched with narrowed eyes as the man stumbled from the room, practically running and tripping over himself. Kurt walked over to the complimentary leather chairs to wait and sat down, smoothing a hand over his knee when he crossed his leg and sat back. David sat next to him, folding his arms over his chest. The man who had displeased Kurt was going to have a very bad night, with more than likely a very unpleasant end. That much was sure. 

 

Kurt Hummel was not a man to cross. 

 

The man stumbled back in and caught his footing and took a deep breath before smoothing a hand down his front with a deep breath as he walked back over to Kurt. “Your new room is ready, Dr. Hummel, if you please follow Jean, he'll seat you.”

 

Kurt rose from his seat, eying the man hard. “When my meal is finished we will talk, am I understood?”

 

The man gave a rapid nod, a forced smile working over his face. “Of course, sir.”

 

Kurt nodded and patted the man's shoulder. “Lovely, and when the rest of my party arrives, please make sure they are treated with the respect they deserve.”

 

Before the man could answer, Kurt had turned on his heel and was marching out of the front hall behind Jean. He was lead through the restaurant, David in tow, towards the back and behind a thick velvet rope and around a corner. They were lead into a curtained room, with a long table, and seated with a flourish. Kurt sat down at the head with David to his right, and ordered the most expensive red wine in the house before his coat was even off. 

 

Blaine arrived next, spouting off half-finished apologies as to why he was late while ordering a mimosa and shoving his fedora, sunglasses, gloves and coat off on whoever would take them. Blaine was, as always, in a simple black tie tuxedo; he liked the classics. He looked good in them. He liked simple and effective, things that worked without a fuss – and his clothing was perhaps the utmost clear representation of that. 

 

Next were Sam and Finn. The blonde looked put-together in a vintage black suit with deep purple pinstripes, a white shirt and a purple tie. Sam sat next to David, with Finn quietly trailing behind him and sitting next to him wordlessly. Finn looked handsome in a simple black suit, wine red dress shirt, and sleek black silk tie. Sam ordered a double whiskey sour – extra ice – for himself and a glass of coke for Finn.

 

“But...” Finn started slowly, fidgeting in his seat when Sam rose his head sharply and looked at him. “Can't I have alcohol like the rest of you?”

 

Sam's eyes settled back on the menu. “You're not mature enough for alcohol, Finn. I know what's best for you.”

 

“Oh.” Finn nodded his head. “Okay.”

 

Kurt scowled in Sam's direction. He hated the way Sam treated Finn like a child, talked down at him and mistreated him, especially since Finn never put up a fight and looked at Sam with such reverence, but he was never quite sure what to say to Sam when it came to Finn. Kurt swirled his wine and took a sip, his eyes finally drawing away from Sam as the curtain to their room peeled back. 

 

Artie strolled in, chatting pleasantly with Jean, talking about some kind of psychological something or other. Artie was dressed in a pair of simple, functional black slacks, a messily tied tie and a tweed jacket that screamed therapist. Or mad scientist. Both of which were accurate titles when it came to Artie. He ordered a Guinness as he sat himself at the table with a cheery goodbye to Jean as he took his menu. 

 

Mike sauntered in next, hands in the pockets of his slacks and in a black silk shirt. Looking casual and sensual at the same time in all black and oozing self-confidence. He ordered a mixed drink as he sat next to Artie with a grin as Jean strolled out and dangled an expensive gold watch in the air held with nimble fingers. Artie smiled back and fist-bumped with Mike as the lithe male pocketed the watch. 

 

Next Puck walked in, looking out of place in a shirt and tie, especially since it was paired with grubby jeans and a set of sneakers. He ordered a bottle of beer and dropped into his chair, loosening his tie and pulling at his collar, exposing a fresh, pink set of five tally marks scarred into his neck below the collar. 

 

“Where's Jesse?” Blaine asked, stirring his mimosa with the cherry garnished straw before he took a sip.

 

“Late, like always,” Sam drawled, crunching on his ice. 

 

Blaine rolled his eyes, echoing Sam childishly, with a high pitch to his voice as he pulled out his cellphone and thumbed the keyboard open as he punched in a quick text. Seconds later Blaine's phone vibrated and he clicked it open, smiling fondly down at the message before replying to it and pocketing his phone. “He's just getting out of his cab.”

 

Less than a minute later, a dripping wet, messy Jesse stumbled his way into the room. His arms were filled with notes that were as wet as he was and a messenger bag was banging against his hip as he walked. He looked like a scholarly drowned rat, his messy, curled hair was dripping into his eyes and over his horn-rimmed glasses and then down onto his notes. He ran his fingers through his somewhat knotted hair as he gave a wan, apologetic smile and made his way to his seat with a quiet order of Kahlua with chocolate milk. He handed his things off to Jean, taking the offered towel with a fumbled smile and patted off his wet sweater vest, shirt and tie. His wet high-tops making quiet squeaking noises as they rubbed together when he sat down in his seat. 

 

“Sorry I'm l-late. I'm working on a new c-c-case s-s-study. Fascinating, really. It's a n-n-new look into the Jack the Ripper case. Examining the poss-possibilities he was actually a woman.” 

 

“That sounds really interesting,” Blaine admitted, smiling at Jesse. “If you ever need any help, you know I'm good with puzzles.”

 

Jesse smiled back softly, lowering his eyes and pushing up his glasses with the back of his hand. “Thanks, Blaine. Sorry everyone, I know it isn't exactly the best dinner discussion I'm just so--”

 

“Oh my God,” Puck snapped, gesturing widely with his beer bottle. “No one cares, Jesse.” 

 

“I care,” Jesse shyly admitted, biting his lip and lowered his eyes in embarrassment. 

 

“Me too,” Blaine said with a grin.

 

“Well, I don't.” Puck took a swig of his beer with a snort.

 

“No one asked you your opinion, Puckerman,” Jesse snapped back with a snarl. He shifted from the slouch he had been in and straightened his back, smoothing his frazzled hair back from his face as he crossed his legs and threw back his shoulders in a more confident posture. “Keep up that attitude and maybe I'll take back my promise to defend you should you need it when I become a lawyer.”

 

Puck rolled his eyes and took a sip from his beer. “You're too nice for that, St. James.”

 

Jesse smiled coolly, ordering himself a Jack Daniel's and Coke, returning the Kahlua with chocolate milk with a frown and a look of distaste. “Not all the time.”

 

“Well,” Kurt spoke up, looking over his menu when their waitress entered the room. “If you are all quite finished with your pissing contests, I'd like to order food. Unless of course, you've all decided you want to pay for your own meals.” 

 

Puck's mouth clicked shut with a grunt and he opened his menu a little too forcefully but didn't say anything further. 

 

“Excellent,” Kurt beckoned the waitress over with a quick wave of his fingers from her wait in the corner. 

 

~*~

 

Dinner was filled with a smattering of disjointed conversations as people talked in their usual circles and then people jumping into various conversations. As usual Puck was moody, but was friendly with Kurt, Dave and Mike, and on occasion Artie. Blaine and Jesse were off in their little world of half-completed sentences and giggles, at least when Jesse was fumbly, bumbly and an adorable law student, when he was suave and cool, he still talked to Blaine, but he was far more standoffish, and his eyes wandered over to Finn and Puck, with little half-smiles. 

 

Kurt’s gaze wandered over to Finn, who was quietly pushing the ravioli and salad that Sam had ordered him around his plate. Finn had asked if he could get chicken, his voice practically muffled behind the menu as he spoke, but as usual, Sam had assured Finn he would get him something he liked. Finn’s face had fallen, but when Sam looked at him and stroked his face with the back of his hand, Finn had perked up like a puppy and he smiled widely, graciously. 

 

Kurt had stabbed at his chicken with particularly brutal force and sawed at it with his knife while tearing his eyes away. He knew that Sam didn’t physically do anything to harm Finn, but Kurt knew that Finn’s mind was fragile and that the tall boy was far too trusting. Finn was his best friend after David and it hurt Kurt deeply to see Sam toy with Finn for fun.

 

Looking down at his plate, at his cut up, partly eaten chicken – no vegetables, no sides – he pushed it around his plate with his fork. The food settled strangely in his stomach, an unusual, slightly uncomfortable weight he wasn’t quite used to. He ate on occasion, only out of public necessity – a work dinner; a public conference – always something when he was trying to pass as supposedly normal. Placing his fork down gently, Kurt picked up his wine and took a long sip of it, his fingers tapping against the glass.

 

It had been years, hell, over a decade and crossing into almost two, since he had actually eaten a proper meal. His eyes tracked over the other people at the table, lingering on their plates, watching them gesture and chew and talk. He wondered what food tasted like to them. He wondered what it was like for them to eat vegetables and salad without a thought. 

 

A peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich, orange juice and an apple had been the last thing he had eaten before his normal apple pie life had been violently usurped. He had been at work with his mother, a botanist who had been the largest inspiration and pushing force behind him taking up her mantle in environmental science. Someone, some sort of angry anti-environmentalist, he remembered the police saying, had burst into his mother’s lab. There had been a fight; his mother had been pushed aside, breaking some sort of chemical mess open. The man had grabbed Kurt, no doubt to use for leverage of some kind.

 

Kurt remembered being held hard on the top of his arm and grabbing at his text book – sixth grade math had finally come in handy, and swinging. Their attacker had stumbled and shoved at Kurt. Things went blurry, he remembered falling. There had been hissing... Then everything went black.

 

His mother had died in the explosion. 

 

Kurt could clearly remember waking up in the hospital, hooked to a thousand different machines. He could remember the ache that spread all over his body like his nerves were on fire. He remembered screaming and crying. His father had been there, the only respite from the pain of his body and the loss of his mother.

 

The doctors had told him the green tinge to his skin was due to a chemical reaction and would fade after a few months. They had no idea of what had truly had happened to him; about the fact he preened and felt alive in the sun and that food seemed meaningless. They didn’t know about the fact Kurt had killed his first boyfriend with their goodnight kiss. 

 

Kurt kept his mouth shut – he wasn’t stupid. He worked hard, he worked to make his mother proud, but they had never found her killer. 

 

One day…

 

“Hey, where’s Will?”

 

Kurt shook out of his memories and straightened in his chair, placing his wine glass aside. “He couldn’t make it.”

 

“I’m bored,” Puck muttered as he finished the last of his steak. 

 

“What do you propose we do?” Artie asked, taking a bite of his lobster linguini. 

 

“Well, didn’t you have news for Kurt or something? Isn’t that the whole reason we had this bullshit meeting in the first place?

 

Kurt’s mouth pressed in a thin line. “If this meeting is such bullshit, Noah, then you can go ahead and leave and pay for your own goddamn meal. I have no interest in paying for you if you’re going to be an ungrateful son of a bitch.”

 

Puck clenched his jaw, the scars of the tallies on his cheeks danced with the action, before he forced out a slow sigh. “Fine.” He took a long sip of his beer and then looked to Artie. “What did you find out?”

 

Artie swallowed and took a sip of his drink, smiling a little and wiped his mouth. “As you asked me to, I’ve been analyzing your mother’s case.”

 

Kurt gave a slow, tentative nod at Artie’s words, his hands twisting the cloth napkin in his lap into knots. “Did you find anything?”

 

“Well… The protest groups that they have listed, they’re all non-violent. While it is possible that someone detached from a group and attacked your mother, to be quite honest, your mother was a mid-level researcher and the company she worked for was pretty low key. I think the attack was personally motivated.”

 

Kurt traced his finger around the rim of his wineglass, musing on Artie’s words. “You think that they targeted my mom on purpose?”

 

“Or you,” Artie suggested, his voice quiet. “You did say the person grabbed you and was dragging you out.”

 

Kurt’s brows furrowed and he chewed at his lower lip. “Did I? I…” Kurt ran a hand through his fiery hair, distracted. “I don’t remember…”

 

Kurt held back a small smile when he felt David’s hand brush over his knee and squeeze in comfort. Kurt swallowed the last of his wine in a large gulp and placed the glass aside. He dragged his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, ignoring the fact it would tousle, he felt off, and out of sorts and he didn’t like it. In fact, it made him want to hurt someone. Badly. 

 

“I’m going to the bathroom. You comin’ puddin’?” 

 

Kurt raised his eyes from the table cloth at Finn’s slow drawl as he stood. He watched Sam stand slowly, his eyes clouded in annoyance, but he gave a nod, his permanent smile twisting into something that Kurt was sure Finn read as affection. Kurt’s mouth twisted into a small grimace and he looked away as Sam’s hand settled against the small of Finn’s back as he push-guided him out of the room. 

 

Kurt forced out a wavering breath as he pulled over David’s water and took two large sips, trying to calm his rattled nerves. His mind was going a million miles an hour and he didn’t know what to think. He could feel his temples pulse in an annoying, dull throb and felt the meat in his stomach churn. He pushed back from the table and stood, quickly excusing himself before rushing to the bathroom.

 

Kurt pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind him, his fingers trembled a little as they closed around the lock and he bolted it in place. Kurt scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling the concealer over his mouth smear messily with his agitated movement. Slowly, Kurt removed his hands, rubbing his fingers over the sticky, greasy smears on his palms as he took in slow breaths. He looked over at the sounds of movement, soft rustling and his hands dropped and clenched into fists in annoyance. 

 

“What are you _doing_?”

 

Sam straightened from his slump over the counter top and rubbed at his nose a few times, giving violent sniffs as he burst into giggles that shook his frame. “It’s just a little pick-me-up, relax.”

 

Kurt’s jaw clenched as his hands twitched in anger. “You’ve got him snorting drugs now. Nice, Sam! Great boyfriend skills, I’m really impressed!” Kurt stalked forward and snatched the small bag from Finn’s hand – the taller boy was leaning against the wall, his expression slightly vacant. Kurt waved the bag in front of Sam’s face. “What is it, cocaine?”

 

“It’s Smilex, you uptight pansy.” Sam snapped, grabbing the bag back from Kurt and pocketed it. “I modified it so it could be a powder. Sell it on the street and stupid people think it’s just coke and what do you know? Surprise! More mysterious dead people!” 

 

Kurt gritted his teeth as Sam burst into a second round of giggles and looked to Finn, and then back at Sam. “It shouldn’t affect him, not after the injections I gave him.”

 

“This dose is a little stronger than the previous formula’s it just relaxes him and makes him more _compliant_.”

 

Kurt’s mouth twisted in a thin line. “Get out; I want to talk to him.”

 

Sam opened his mouth to respond before his mouth curled into a strange sort of sneer before he pushed off the counter. “Whatever, I don’t give a shit.”

 

Kurt turned back to Finn as the door swung shut after Sam and he steered the taller male to sit in one of the complimentary chairs and stroked his fingers soothingly through Finn’s hair, smiling when Finn did. Kurt sat next to his friend and nudged against his shoulder, smiling when Finn wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed. 

 

“I love him, you know…”

 

Kurt sighed and trailed his fingers over Finn’s knee. “I know. I don’t think he loves you though, Finn.” 

 

“He does,” Finn assured, his fingers squeezing the back of Kurt’s neck, “in his way.”

 

Kurt opened his mouth to respond before he let it click shut, he rested against Finn lazily. “He doesn’t love you like I do.”

 

Finn smiled and gave a soft laugh. “No one can love me like you do.”

 

“You’re my best friend; I just want you to be happy. I want you to be safe.”

 

“I am happy – Sam makes me happy. He doesn’t laugh at me, he takes care of me…” 

 

“He feeds you drugs.”

 

“They keep me calm, Kurt; they can’t hurt me like they hurt other people.”

 

“That doesn’t mean they don’t hurt you in the end.”

 

Finn chuckled, his head tipping back. “Listen to you, sociopath with a conscience.”

 

Kurt’s mouth quirked up into a smile and he squeezed at Finn’s hand. “Don’t psychoanalyze me or I’ll have to remind you that _you_ have a psychosexual fixation.” Kurt dodged the lazy swipe with a laugh. “Promise me you’ll tell me if he does something wrong.”

 

Finn’s hand cupped Kurt’s cheek and his thumb dragged over Kurt’s lower lip, smearing the already dirtied make-up and nodded. “I promise.” 

 

Kurt opened his mouth to reply but Finn placed a soft kiss on his mouth, soft and loving, but in no way passionate. Kurt’s mouth curved upward when Finn sat back, his hand lifting to touch at his mouth. Kurt tilted his head curiously as Finn pushed at his bottom lip slightly with his fingers.

 

“Tingles,” Finn explained, smiling, “feels like they’re numb. Do you think Dave ever gets jealous because you can kiss me since you gave me those injections to protect me from all of Sam's poisons but he never got them?”

 

“David never wanted the injections, swore everything off after he kicked his addictions. I keep asking, but he refuses. Besides, I could kiss him all I wanted, I just choose not to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I think it's sexier, more intimate, to be with a person and you don't rely on a basic kiss to get by.” Kurt rose a shoulder in a shrug as he stood and pulled the tube of concealer from his pocket and smeared it over his lips before he toyed and primped his hair in the mirror. “Alright, let’s get back before they send a search party.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They headed back upstairs, where people were getting ready to leave. As Finn rejoined Sam, Kurt watched as Sam momentarily curved a hand possessively around Finn's bicep before letting go. Kurt paid for dinner with a wave of his corporate platinum card and they made their way to the foyer where their cars and cabs were being pulled up to the curb. They waited outside, it was damp and cool, but no longer raining and Kurt found the air freeing after the sterile perfection of the restaurant

 

Kurt watched as Blaine settled against Jesse, Jesse who squirmed in embarrassment and flushed and stammered. Blaine wrapped his arms around the younger male and rested his head against Jesse's shoulder when Jesse's arms wrapped around his body in turn. Out of all of them, Kurt found them to be the most normal. Sure when Jesse switched, he could as much a sociopath as the rest of them and had a keen interest in fire, but when he was in his meek student persona, he was adorable and so real. Blaine may have had an unhealthy obsession with riddles, to the point of it bordering on the insane, or even passing into the territory, he functioned pretty well. He was, as Artie liked to put it, an extremely high-functioning sociopath. 

 

When it came to Sam all bets were off. Even his appearance, his Cheshire grin, gave hint at his unstable mind. Sam was prone to extremely violent mood swings, and had no apparent conscience. He definitely, in Kurt's mind, didn't love Finn – he seemed to enjoy using Finn, even if Finn annoyed him, Finn was a good tool for him to use. A toy to be played with until he was broken beyond repair. 

 

Finn had been perfectly fine until he had met Sam. Kurt had known Finn for years, since their junior year of high school, they had ended up roommates in college. Finn had been a highly praised psychoanalyst, if a bit shy. Then he had started analyzing Sam and all bets had been off. Finn was obsessed with Sam, infatuated with everything he did, perhaps even to the point of his own destruction. When he was away from Sam, when he was still at work, Finn was still highly productive, and Kurt was sure that the people Finn worked with would be shocked to know the things he enjoyed doing in the dark. The depraved activities he had gotten up to with Sam...

 

Mike was pretty normal too, when Kurt thought about it. Sure he was a kleptomaniac turned burglar with a penchant for cats, in Kurt's mind, that was pretty tame. Except for the nine lives thing; that was a bit more than human. Kurt liked Mike – it was hard not to like a guy who liked to dress in tight leather, play with whips and bathe with his tongue – so it was a little kinky? Could you really blame him?

 

Puck, well, there was a cut and dry example of violent sexual sadist. Puck was disturbed, that much was clear, any guy who cut a tally line in his flesh to mark his conquest was obviously a little unbalanced. Apply that to a guy who had been screwed by the penal system and had been in and out of institutions since he was a young teen, well, there you go. 

 

Artie, like Finn, had been pretty normal. Just like Finn, Artie was a highly respected professional in psychology. However, Artie's psychosis was self-induced rather than as a result of someone else. Artie had gone too far in his research into fear, he had pushed his patients too far, and had gotten hooked to their reactions. So he developed drugs to make it more intense, to make their fears last longer and be more real, and he loved how it made him feel. But, like Finn, and like Mike, Artie could still pass as a decent human being, and hold down his job in the real world. 

 

Kurt climbed into his cab, sliding into the back beside David and relaxed against the door. His eyes drew over David, who was toying with his cufflinks and loosening his tie. David was brilliant, Kurt was pretty sure he would qualify as a genius if tested. He had a photographic memory and amazingly brilliant deductive reasoning skills. If it hadn't been for the fact he had also been abused by the system, Kurt was sure he could have gotten any job he wanted. 

 

Instead David had been born in a women's prison, his mother had been convicted for killing his father – her rapist. He had grown up in prison and learned quickly about corruption and power. After getting released as a ward of the state at sixteen, David struggled in the world, with no official formal education, and no legal way of finding a job, David had become a boxer in underground rings. It had gotten him tangled into the mob and other dark and nasty business. Before long, David was a hit man and enforcer for the mafia, which had lead to money, power, and drugs. He had become addicted to Venom; it was similar to steroids, it made him stronger than he already was, and kicked his already brilliant mind into hyperdrive. Though David had kicked the habit, and was now working an honest job as a freelance private eye – oh the irony – he still had reminders of his drug history in the form of the injection port in the base of his neck, now hidden by hair, that ran directly into his Limbic system. 

 

Kurt took a moment to think about himself. Gazing out the window of the cab as they moved through the city. He had been twelve when his world had been turned upside down. Though the explosion and resulting plant-human hybrid changes to his body had occurred, his mental state was still sufficiently stable. He had low tolerances for boredom and got agitated during long waits and silences, but he wasn't unhinged like Sam. He was fiercely protective of the environment, even to a violent end, well... seductive, poisonous end, anyway. 

 

Kurt frown deeply, his mind still turning with Artie's words, at the idea of the attack on he and his mother being personally motivated. He tried to think of what had happened, tried to push beyond the blurry haze of half-completed memories in his head. He grabbed at his hair in frustration when nothing came up and shoved the money at the cabbie when they pulled up to their building. Climbing out of the cab, Kurt crossed his arms around himself, agitated and anxious and followed after David inside of their luxurious condo and up to the uppermost floor. 

 

Once the door was closed, Kurt shed his coat, hanging it up as he peeled off his boots and righted himself. He peeled off the layers of his clothes in an anxious huff, eager to be naked and free. David trailed after him, slowly picking up the clothes Kurt dropped off his body carelessly. 

 

“What's bothering you?” David asked, placing the folded clothes on the dresser in their bedroom. 

 

“Too many thoughts.” Kurt turned in place, hands clenched at his hair, pressed against his temples. “I can't remember - why can't I just _remember_?”

 

David removed his shirt jacket and tie and stepped behind Kurt, drawing the slighter male's body against his frame as he stroked over Kurt's neck and down his back with his broad, calloused hands. He watched with fascination as Kurt's body slowly relaxed and the natural green colour seeped back over his flesh as the chlorophyl resurfaced in his skin. He admired the contrast between his olive skin tone and Kurt's luscious, healthy green. 

 

“Anything I can do to help?”

 

Kurt's mouth quirked upward in a smirk and he tipped his head back against David's chest, peering up into his face. “You can take off your clothes and let me ride you until my legs turn to jelly.”

 

Dave tipped his chin back, his eyes looking ponderous for a moment. “I think I can do that.”

 

Kurt gave a soft jovial laugh as Dave took a step back from him, leaving him sway slightly in place on the floor. Kurt turned, watching with greedy eyes as David removed his tie and dress shirt. As David's hands dropped to his belt, Kurt's toes curled in the soft, plush carpeting in delighted want and he ran his fingers over David's strong, compact chest. Pushing up on his toes in a fluid, graceful move, Kurt pressed his mouth against David's jaw and bit at his neck as David's pants dropped, quickly followed by his boxers.

 

David groaned happily, stepping out of his clothes and pulling Kurt against him as he backed them towards the bed. He scraped his teeth over Kurt's soft skin, tasting the bitterness of aloe and sucked a spot on his neck, delighting in the deep, dark green bruise that bloomed up in place. He dropped onto the bed, laying back against the pillows as Kurt knelt over him, one hand distractedly rummaging through the side-table. There was a shuffle before the distinct click of the drawer closing and David heard the tube of lube hit the bed by his chest before the box of condoms quickly followed suit, hitting his chest before rolling off onto the sheets. 

 

Kurt rose up, fitting his knees snugly on either side of David's hips, and took hold of David's hands, guiding them over the larger male's head in a mock bound pose. David didn't hesitate to wrap his hands around the strong iron of the headboards, giving wordless understanding that he was not to touch. Kurt bowed his head and bit at Dave's shoulder gently, scraping his teeth over the hard bone before he sat back in a fluid display of grace and picked up the lube. 

 

Kurt flipped open the tube of the slick substance with the pad of his thumb and squeezed some of the slippery, cool wetness over his fingers. He bit his lower lip as he braced one hand on David's shoulder before arching back and slipping two fingers between his legs to tease himself. 

 

“Damned tease,” David snarled, his hands gripping tight at the slats in the headboard, but he was careful to keep his strength in check. Kurt always made him unhinged, especially when he loved to play and tease. They really didn't need to ruin _another_ bed because of their impatience and occasionally brutal sex life. 

 

“Shhh,” Kurt hushed, his hand tightening on David's shoulder as his mouth fell open and he twisted and crooked his fingers inside of himself. Kurt shivered happily at the stretch and burn – at the painful, pleasurable drag of his fingers. “It's been a while since I've ridden you, I don't want to hurt myself.”

 

Dave bit back a groan as Kurt shifted his weight, brushing over his erection with a teasing pressure and let his head fall back into the pillows. “It feels like it's been forever since I've been inside of you.”

 

Kurt's hand drifted down Dave's chest, his fingers gliding over his nipples, sliding to circle his navel. He let his hand slide to Dave's hip and he gripped hard, feeling the strong slide of muscle on bone under his grip. “It's been three days.”

 

Dave opened his mouth to reply but fell quiet in reverence as Kurt slipped in a third finger and the slighter male's head fell back with an unrestrained moan. Dave grabbed hard at the metal under his hands, denying himself the pleasure of his hands on Kurt. Doing his best to abide by Kurt's wordless rules. He heard the metal whine under his fingers and loosened his hold slightly, trying to keep himself in check. 

 

“God, hurry up.”

 

Kurt chuckled and rolled his hips into his fingers and sat back on his haunches, whining as the movement jostled his fingers deeper into his body. Weight secure, Kurt released his hand shakily from David's hip and fumbled for the box of condoms. After a long minute, Kurt wrestled it open, half-distracted, and pulled out a strip of condoms. He tore open off and opened the foil with his teeth before dropping the condom on David's chest with a curse as he lost himself in the pleasure. 

 

Dave caught Kurt's eye and released one of his hands from the iron and rolled the condom over his hard cock. Kurt shuddered when he removed his fingers from his body with a whine and poured lube into his palm before working it over David's covered cock. Once he was sufficiently slick, Kurt grabbed at Dave's shoulder with sticky-slick fingers and guided Dave's cock into his body with a barely restrained groan of pleasure as he sunk down, filling up a little too quick, but delighting in the over sensitive stretch.

 

“Fuck, yes,” David swore, releasing his other hand to curl both of them around Kurt's slim hips with a greedy pull. 

 

Kurt made a breathless noise of agreement and nodded as he placed both of his palms flat on David's chest for leverage as he rocked his hips down with a hiss. “S'good.” 

 

David watched, awed and enraptured, as Kurt slowly worked himself up to a quick rhythm, making soft, breathless noises in the back of his throat as he did so. Kurt was so sexy when he was unrestrained, when he was loose and open and finally relaxed. When his walls were down and he was practically sobbing in pleasure and need as the tension in his body melted away with each brush to his prostate. It was possible that Kurt was even more beautiful than ever when he was riding Dave's cock, eyes half-shut, swollen mouth open, head thrown back and his long neck bared for David to sink his teeth in. 

 

“That's it, baby, let it go.” David encouraged softly, stroking up Kurt's side with one hand, letting his hand drift to tease at Kurt's nipples. He rolled his hips up as Kurt slammed his own hips down. Kurt tensed in pleasure, his body vibrating as his hands curled against Dave's chest and his nails dug hard into the skin. 

 

“You fucker,” Kurt swore, his voice uneven and thick as he trembled. “Do that again.”

 

David opened his mouth to laugh but it was lost in a moan as their hips rolled together and he slid his hand to wrap around Kurt's cock and tug. With how tense Kurt was, Dave knew he was close to letting go, knew that he needed it badly. Kurt was moving in erratic rocking motions, whines, whimpers and pleas falling from his mouth as he drove hard to get to the edge. 

 

“I'm gonna...” Kurt pressed his face against Dave's neck, breathing in his musk and driving their bodies together. 

 

Dave thumbed at the head of Kurt's cock, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, doing his best to make Kurt crazy. “Do it, Kurt, come for me.”

 

Kurt's brows furrowed, his breathing hitched and he rolled his hips down as his back stiffened and he came. His body shaking as he painted his stomach and Dave's hand with his semen. His eyes fluttered happily and he gave a lazy smile as he pushed himself back up, rocking against Dave to push his lover over the edge. 

 

“Fuck, gonna _come_.”

 

Kurt's mouth twisted into a wry smile and he leaned down, brushing his nose against Dave's before he bowed lower and sealed their mouths together. They kissed furiously, tongues melding and sliding together intimately before Kurt pulled back and watched David. Kurt brushed his hand over David's chest, feeling the quick pace of his heart, hot and pounding under his palm, and smiled in delight. He rocked his hips down as David's eyes rolled back in his head, venomous lines of purple and black blossoming up at the edges of his mouth and down his chin towards his neck. 

 

Almost...

 

Kurt slammed his hips down. 

 

David choked and shuddered. 

 

Kurt bowed his mouth against Dave's neck, pressing soft kisses against the poison heated skin. “Come for me, lover.”

 

A wet noise bubbled up from David's mouth and his body jolted twice and Kurt sealed their mouths together again. When Kurt pulled his mouth back with a sucking noise, Dave gasped in air and he stroked his hands down Kurt's shoulders as Kurt finally oozed into his body, languid. 

 

“Feel better?”

 

Kurt nodded his head, feeling relaxed and sleepy as he let David roll their bodies and detached their bodies. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as David pulled off the condom, tied it off and tossed it, before cleaning their sweat and semen-stained bodies with a towel. 

 

“I'm always amazed that you trust me enough to kiss you when you come.”

 

David grinned and flicked off the light and slid against Kurt, pulling the smaller man against his frame and rested his chin on top of Kurt's head. “You kissed the life back into me on our first date, I guess I'm just stupid enough to believe you'll do it every time.”

 

Kurt chuckled and trailed his hand over the back of David's head, circling the old injection port at the base of his neck with lazy swipes of his fingers. “I was trying to kill you, in case you've forgotten, but for some reason you intrigued me enough to keep you around.”

 

Dave yawned and let his eyes drift shut. “I remember.”

 

Kurt pressed a soft kiss into Dave's shoulder. “It was a good first date.” With a yawn Kurt drifted off to sleep, thinking of bruised knuckles and bloody kisses.

 

~*~

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it last night, I had to mark tests.”

 

Kurt nodded his head crossing his legs as he shifted in the comfortable, soft chair provided by the tea house and took a long sip of his honey and cinnamon tea. Kurt had been working; he was so close on a break through to revive a long extinct carnivorous plant – a pitcher plant. Sadly only the seeds had been found fossilized, but there were speculations the plant was five feet high with pitchers large enough to swallow small mammals – he had been examining the paleobiological research when he had received a message from Will. 

 

So here he sat, taking his “lunch break” with the high school English teacher, enjoying the quietness of the tea house. Kurt wrapped his hands around the warmth of the delicate china mug, breathing in the soft, spicy-sweet scent of the cinnamon mixed with honey in his tea and the odd bitter-heady scent it gave as it mixed with Will’s chamomile tea. 

 

“Artie just discussed some ideas on what happened that day with my mother and me.” Kurt tapped his fingers against the glass before setting it aside to pick at the scone that had come with his tea. He wasn’t planning on eating it, but leaving it in one piece would look odd. 

 

“You still can’t remember anything?” Will poured himself more tea and took a bite of his crumpet with jam. 

 

Kurt shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “Not really. It’s a blurry picture of a faceless man who speaks but I can’t remember the words.” Kurt tore at his scone, watching as it fell to pieces on his plate, he brushed the crumbs from his fingers and then took a long swallow of his tea. “Let’s talk about something happier. How are your students?”

 

Will smiled around the rim of his cup as he took a long sip. “They’re wonderful. It’s nice to teach higher grades, in fact I’ve gotten written permission from the principal to let me teach them Lolita.”

 

Kurt’s nose crinkled in distaste. “Isn’t that a little dark, even for eleventh grade? I never liked that book. I read it in college and it left me filled with pity and sadness.” 

 

“I find it fascinating. In many ways Humbert Humbert is a tragic character of circumstance, Lolita seduced him.”

 

Kurt’s mouth twisted up, he mused on the interpretation, before shaking his head. “That’s only because we’re told the story from Humbert’s perspective. If it had been from Lolita’s, I’m sure you would feel different.”

 

Will diverted his eyes and took a long sip of his tea. “Maybe.”

 

Kurt licked his lips and placed down his cup as his blackberry vibrated on the tabletop and picked it up, clicking at the tiny buttons with agile thumbs. He pocketed the device and stood from the table, pulling on his messenger bag and sunglasses, stopping when Will rose as well. “Sorry, I have a meeting I forgot about.”

 

Will frowned a moment before pulling out his pocket watch and stealing a glance. “My lunch break is almost over anyway, I should head out. We should meet up again soon.” Kurt nodded his head and pulled out his wallet, he was about to drop a few bills for his share when Will waved his hand away. “My treat.”

 

Kurt smiled faintly and adjusted his bag, digging through it for his bicycle lock key. “Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

 

With a wave over his shoulder Kurt made his way out of the shop and into the busy street to make his way back to work. Will pulled out his pocket watch again, peering down at the cracked face and down at the hands stuck eternally at six o’clock. Draining the last of his tea, Will threw down a handful of bills before making his way to his car.

 

~*~

 

“I don't know why you hang around with him,” David said with a frown as he took a bite of his pizza. 

 

“He was my English teacher, he was the only one in that school who didn't treat me like a freak for being different.” Kurt stretched out on his deck chair and rolled onto his stomach, exposing his back to the sun as he curled his arms under his cheek. “Besides, didn't you say that we should all stick together to form a solidarity against Batwoman?”

 

“I did. But there's just something about him that bugs me.”

 

“Maybe it's the fact he's a small-eyes.” Puck muttered around his own slice of pizza and took a swig of his beer. 

 

“William doesn't have small eyes,” Kurt replied, brows knitting in confusion as he rolled back over onto his back to look at the scarred man sitting on his rooftop patio. 

 

“Small-eyes is a prison term for a paedophile, babe.” Dave took a sip of his own beer and frowned. He looked over to Puck, who was peeling the olives off his pizza. “Why are you calling him that anyway?”

 

“You've seriously never seen the way he looks at children?” Puck asked, blinking at the two of them in shock before snorting. “He's very... enthralled... with them. You've never thought about why he's so in love with Alice in Wonderland before, or the fact his teaching record is spotty at best?”

 

“How do you know that? Besides, that's a pretty big accusation.” Kurt pulled over his water and took a few long swallows as he watched Puck eat. “He may be unconventional, but aren't we all? Just because he's off doesn't mean he's abusing children.”

 

Puck rolled his eyes and crammed the crust of his pizza in his mouth. He chewed before swallowing and wiped his hands on his jeans. “That's like you making excuses for me running through women with knives. I know I'm fucked up, I openly admit and display it, and I don't make up any kind of namby-pamby bullshit as to why.”

 

“I...” Kurt fell silent and frowned. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I'm not sure...”

 

Puck shrugged and finished his beer. “It's obvious if you know where to look and what to look for.”

 

Kurt pursed his lips, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of a friend and ally being something so unnerving and disturbing. He sighed and drained the last of his water wordlessly, his mind filled with too many thoughts. 

 

~*~

 

Kurt sighed as he pushed himself up and out of the bed carefully, taking great pains not to wake up Dave, who was snoring into his pillow. Kurt stretched fully, giving a delighted shiver when the cold air from the open window hit his naked body before he pulled on his robe. He stole a glance at the clock, a little after two, and let himself out of their bedroom. 

 

Flicking on the TV as he made his way into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. He rifled through his jars of barks, seeds and roots for something to relax him. Pulling out some Cramp Bark, Kurt chopped it into tiny pieces and set it in the small muslin bag before dropping it into his mug and pouring the boiling water over top. The bittersweet smell blossomed up and Kurt inhaled deeply and swirled the homemade muslin tea bag around in the water before pulling it out and setting it aside.

 

Kurt relaxed on the couch, pulling his knees against his chest as he wrapped his hands around the mug and watched the news. They were talking about another string of jewelery store robberies – more than likely thanks to Mike – and Kurt took a long sip of his tea. A commercial came on and Kurt's eyes drew down to his notebook, his scribbled ideas and notes on how to make the reanimation of the long fossilized plant possible by simple human means. So far, his thoughts were proving fruitless. 

 

It seemed everything in his mind was hitting a dead end. 

 

First his attempt to remember his past, and now his work.

 

His eyes drew back to the TV at a perky, sweet voice and his mouth curled into a displeased frown. A chipper fashion consultant was standing on a red carpet beaming into the camera and talking to the city's infamous Brittany Pierce – head of Pierce Enterprises. The girl was famous for being famous, Kurt doubted she had an original thought in her head. Yet after the death of her parents when she was a child, she became the city's sweetheart and because the company her father built, which she had inherited, ran so much in the city, she was _everywhere_ **all the time**. 

 

Kurt had a personal long-standing grudge against the pretty blonde and her company. Pierce Enterprises was a non eco-friendly company, and that was putting it lightly. They produced large amounts of toxins and poisons to choke the skies and damage the waters, but thought it was fixable with a once a year charity ball held at the town's botanical garden. Kurt took a sip of his tea and scowled at the screen, annoyed. He hated that his company couldn't get ahead because of Pierce's influence, and that he had to put up a friendly public appearance and act nice when all he really wanted to do was shove her down a flight of stairs into moving traffic. 

 

Kurt flicked off the TV and stretched out on the white leather sofa and shut his eyes, trying to relax. His head throbbed with a rare tension headache that he tried to will away and he draped his arm across his eyes, blocking out any remaining light. His mind was so busy – work, life, appearances, attempting to relax, trying to remember his past... 

 

Kurt put his tea aside and picked up the phone, he listened for a dial-tone before placing the phone to his ear. The phone rang five times before connecting and a sleepy, slurred voice crackled down the line.

 

“H'lo?”

 

“Hey Jesse, sorry to wake you, is Blaine still up?”

 

Kurt could hear the faint sounds of Jesse moving in bed, the clatter of him fumbling for his glasses. “Kurt, it's two AM.”

 

“I know, but this is important.”

 

Jesse yawned, long and loud and Kurt imagined him pulling himself up in bed and stretching with one arm. “Hang on.” 

 

Jesse didn't speak but Kurt heard a door shudder open and listened to the quiet slaps Jesse's bare feet made on the tiles of the floor in the apartment he and Blaine shared. Kurt heard a gentle knock on hollow, particle wood and a second door opening. There was muffled talking before the phone fumbled and he heard “it's fine, go back to sleep, babe” from Blaine before there was a sound of more fumbling. 

 

“He hadn't transitioned all day, why did you have to piss him off and make him switch?”

 

Kurt didn't have time for apologies, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the phrase from his dream. The allusive words that made no sense and always eluded him. “Blaine, why is a raven like a writing desk?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You heard me, it's a riddle, right?”

 

“Yeah. One with no answer, why?”

 

“It's stuck in my head.”

 

“Kurt, I was working on the crossword for Sunday's paper, it's due tomorrow. You woke Jesse up. It's after two...”

 

“Sorry.” Kurt pressed his forehead to the cold leather on the arm of his couch and clutched the phone tightly. “I keep hearing it in my dreams. It sounds familiar, but I can't place it.”

 

“It's from Alice in Wonderland.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, from the tea party. The Mad Hatter asks Alice but she says she doesn't know the answer. Carroll intended for the riddle to have no answer but --”

 

Kurt disconnected the line with shaking fingers, his body going cold. 

 

~*~

 

_”Don't wander off too far!”_

_Kurt nodded his head and looked back at his mother, who was looking important and grown up at her special table with all her instruments. Kurt brushed a hand down his side and played with the front of the specially made lab coat his mom had gotten just for him to look professional when he worked with her._

_He was bored, and it was late, and he had finished all his homework, so he was going to look for something to play with. He could remember seeing couches that looked like they were made for bouncing on his way to his mom's lab after they ate in the cafeteria. He had had peanut butter and jelly, no crusts, cut into four triangles the way he liked._

_Kurt poked his head into a room, it was boring and empty. Filled with a long desk and chairs. Sighing, Kurt brushed back his bangs and turned from the door. He made his way down the hall, his new shiny leather shoes making quiet **tap-tap** noises on the polished floor as he rounded another corner. He was sure the couches had to be around here somewhere. _

_Kurt turned, then stopped. He swallowed nervously, feeling his heart speed up. He looked down the hall, before turning around and looking down the other way. Which way had he come? Biting his lower lip, Kurt spun in place and bit back a whimper as he sat down in place like his mom had taught him and tried not to cry._

_“Are you lost?”_

_Kurt looked up, smiling a watery smile at the sight of a grown up, who crouched down to look at him. Kurt wiped at his face with the back of his hands. “A little.” Kurt sniffled and said thank you when the man offered a tissue. “I'm not 'sposed to cry. Big boys don't cry.”_

_“It's okay to cry if you're scared. If I'm scared, sometimes I cry.”_

_Kurt blew his nose and looked at the man. “Really?”_

_The man nodded and stood up slowly, offering his hand. “I'm Will, what's your name?”_

_Kurt hesitated. The nice man was a stranger, and he wasn't supposed to go off with strangers, but he was lost, and maybe this man could help him find his mom. Kurt stood up and took the guy's hand. “I'm Kurt.”_

_Will's hand was warm and tight and big and it squeezed his hand so tight it hurt. “Well, it's nice to meet you, Kurt.” Will tugged him lightly down the hall, walking quickly and confidently around a corner, Kurt had to practically run to keep pace. “So, where are you going?”_

_“I was looking for some couches, I'm with my mom, but I got bored... I thought... I thought maybe I could make a fort, or jump up and down on them...”_

_Will paused at a junction of two hallways and stooped a little to look at Kurt. “Were they blue couches?”_

_Kurt gave a vigorous nod. “Yeah!”_

_Will smiled faintly. “I know exactly where they are, c'mon.”_

_They found the couches and Kurt busily got to work stripping off the cushions and nudging the coffee table just right so he could make a cushion bridge to hide under._

_“Hey, Kurt?”_

_Kurt peered out from fort he had made to look over at Will. “Yeah?”_

_“Can I come in your fort?”_

_Kurt crawled out, standing to look at his masterpiece proudly with his hands on his hips, He looked back at Will, then to the fort. “You're awful big Mister Will. I don't think you'll fit.”_

_Will laughed softly and clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezed. He knelt down again to Kurt's level and gave him a smile. “Don't worry, I will.”_

_Kurt's mouth screwed up in stubborn defiance before he gave a soft nod. “Okay, you can come in.”_

_They squeezed in to their soft sanctuary and Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest as he peered around to assess his work._

_“So, do you like forts, Kurt?”_

_Kurt nodded and looked over at Will. “Yeah, they make me feel safe. They protect you from the monsters.”_

_“There aren't any monsters in here.”_

_Kurt rolled his eyes and squirmed in place. “Of course there aren't, we're **inside** the fort, silly!”_

_Will laughed a little. “Of course! How silly of me.” Will shifted a little, careful not to disturb the walls of their fort as he pulled out his pocket watch and caught a glimpse of the time through the cracks in the cushions._

_“What's that?”_

_“It's a pocket watch. It lets me know what time it is.”_

_“Can I see?”_

_“Sure!”_

_Kurt took the shining watch from Will's outstretched hands and turned it over in his own. He smoothed his thumbs down the polished glass and watched the second hand tick away before he turned it over and stared down at the inscription. Kurt's brows scrunched up as he read the words on the back of the gold plate._

_Why does it say - “eat me” and “drink me”?”_

_Will's fingers wrapped around the chain on the watch and he lifted it from Kurt's hand and watched it sway back and forth in the air. “Did you ever read Alice in Wonderland?”_

_Kurt shook his head. “Nope.”_

_Will huffed and dropped the watch back into Kurt's fingers. “Well, you should.”_

_Kurt's fingers slipped on their grasp of the watch and it clattered to the floor, giving a soft crack as the face broke and he gasped. “Oh no! I'm sorry, Mister Will!”_

_Will glanced down at the watch and picked it up gingerly, he turned it over in his hand and looked down at the face of the clock stuck at six o'clock. He gave a wan smile. “It's okay, Kurt, I dropped it too fast for you. Besides, now I'll always know when I met you.”_

_Kurt gave a small smile. “That's true. Still, I am sorry. I don't have much, but I can open my piggy bank and give you what I have.”_

_Will shook his head and ruffled his hand through Kurt's hair, grinning at the pout it earned. “It's fine, Kurt, I promise.”_

_Kurt opened his mouth to say something before he gave a wide yawn and rubbed at his eyes sleepily. “Sorry.”_

_“Do you want me to take you to your mom, if she has to work I can take you home if you'd like.”_

_Kurt nodded his head and took Will's hand when he stumbled to his feet. He yawned again. “You're pretty nice for a grown up.”_

_Will smiled and patted Kurt's shoulder. “Do you want me to carry you, can you stand?”_

_Kurt wavered on his feet. “M'fine.”_

_Will stooped down and pulled Kurt up, hitching the boy into his arms before beginning to walk. “That's better isn't it?”_

_Kurt nodded his head and watched as they walked down the halls. “My mom is Elizabeth Hummel, do you know which office it is?”_

_“Yeah, don't worry your pretty head about it.”_

_Kurt lifted his head sleepily from Will's shoulder at the soft petting to his hair and the warm, large fingers playing with the strands at the base of his neck. He shivered a little and shifted in the strong hold Will had him in, watching as they took a corner and he saw his mom's office come into view, bobbing up and down with each step Will took._

_The lab was empty when they entered it, Kurt's bag rested against the table his mother had been working at, his math textbook balanced on the chair he had been sitting on. Kurt turned his head as Will set him on the floor, looking for his mother. He gave a tiny whimper, his hands clutching at the lab coat that hung over his wrists._

_“She forgot me,” Kurt whispered, his lower lip trembling a little._

_“Hey, hey. Don't cry...”_

_Kurt sniffled noisily and turned when Will sunk down to his level and wiped away his tears with his thumbs. Kurt hiccoughed slightly and gave a watery, unsure smile when Will pressed a kiss to his forehead._

_“I'll take you home, okay?”_

_Kurt nodded and shouldered his backpack, glad that Will was being so nice. He took Will's offered hand, swinging it a little when their fingers linked together snugly. “Thanks a lot, Mister Will.”_

_“Anything for you, Kurt.” Will tugged Kurt softly, pulling the boy against his leg as he released his hand a moment and rest his hand against the young boy's face, peering into his wide, innocent blue doe eyes. “And I promise I would never, ever forget you.” Will's finger traced down the boy's cheek, over his jaw and to his chin. He paused a moment, his touch lingering; admiring the soft, alabaster skin. “You're like a little doll, Kurt. Only, you're real – perfect and small, and real...”_

_Kurt's nose crinkled up in distaste. “Dolls are for **girls**.”_

_Will laughed, his fingers skirting down to the hollow of Kurt's throat and he curled his fingers against Kurt's collar. The skin was so hot, almost flushed under his touch, and Will licked his lips and smiled. “Well, you're definitely not a girl, hm?”_

_Kurt shook his head vehemently and watched as Will slid down to sit on the floor, his hands grasping hard at Kurt's shoulders. “What are you doing?”_

_“I have a question for you, Kurt.”_

_Kurt blinked and tilted his head, peering at the older man with curiosity. “What is it?”_

_Will leaned forward conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moved his mouth to Kurt's ear. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”_

_Kurt's head reared back and he looked at Will quizzically, his brows knitted together in confusion. He opened his mouth to respond before clamping it shut again, trying to come up with an answer._

_“What are you **doing**?!”_

_Kurt turned on his heel, his eyes flying to his mother's form, her shocked face. Kurt beamed happily, she hadn't forgotten him! “Mom, Mister Will was making sure that I was safe and --”_

_“Kurt, come here, right now.”_

_Kurt frowned but nodded and stepped forward, giving a noise of surprise when he was yanked back hard by Will, so hard it hurt and he stumbled into the larger man. He turned and offered a smile to the other male and rose a hand to pat his arm. “It's okay, she's my mom, I'm safe with her.”_

_Before Kurt realized what was happening his mother had charged at Will, with all the anger and avenging force that a mother had for a threatened child. Kurt fumbled on his feet, watching with wide eyes as the two grown-ups fought. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, confused. Nothing bad had happened, in fact, the man had been nothing but kind and sweet._

_“Mom, I don't think you --”_

_Kurt watched in shock and horror as Will's fist connected with his mother's face, sending her reeling back, stumbling into her desk, her body splaying against it, her flailing arms knocking instruments about as she crumpled to the floor. Blood gushed from her nose down her front, staining her lab coat red, and turning her beautiful dark green blouse a tacky brown._

_“Mom!” Kurt charged forward, falling to his knees beside his mother, his hands pressing against her sticky, wet, blood slicked face. Kurt looked over his shoulder at Will, who was shaking his hand out, his expression stony and cold, so different from the smiling, laughing man Kurt had been with earlier._

_There was a faint, soft hissing noise and a funny smell._

_Kurt's mother curled her hand over his shoulder and smiled at him. “I'm fine, baby, you need to go, okay? Go wait downstairs, if I'm not down there in ten minutes you run, okay? You run and you find the first grown-up you can and you tell them you're lost, okay?”_

_“But Mom I --”_

_“I'll be fine, sweetheart. This man and I are just going to have a talk.”_

_Kurt opened his mouth, but his words were cut off in a gasp as a hand clamped hard around his neck and yanked him back. Kurt's hands scrambled for purchase and curled around the spine of his math textbook and he hauled it up, twisting and letting it go. It hit Will in the side of the face and the man snarled as he grabbed for Kurt and pulled him close. Will's face was dark, his mouth a hard line._

_“You could have been my Alice, Kurt. We could have been so beautiful.”_

_Air left Kurt's lungs in a rush as he was shoved hard in the chest. His legs tangled in the feet of the stool behind him and he fell over it. His back hit the hard metal shelves that held the chemicals for various experiments; the shelves rattled under the force of Kurt's body and fell loose, sending a cascade of metal and toxins down on the hard, polished floor and Kurt's prone body._

_Kurt's head connected with the floor and the word fuzzed around the edges._

_The hissing grew louder._

_Then came the blackness._

 

~*~

 

“I'll kill him myself!”

 

Kurt gave a small smile in Jesse's direction as the suave male was barely held back by Puck's strong arms and Blaine's gentle hands tugging him back. 

 

“Someone else already has dibs.” Kurt's smile turned twisted as he looked down at Will's body, wrapped in tight, thorny vines, laying in a heap on the floor. 

 

It had been pathetically easy to take him down. Kurt almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. Wait, that was a lie, he really didn't. 

 

“Is there any particular reason you wore your vigilante costume?” Artie asked, his eyes drawing up from Will's wriggling mess of a body to Kurt, who was standing over him wearing a two-piece skintight PVC suit. 

 

The suit was hunter green, and the pants portion ended just above Kurt's ankles, and the arms fit snugly to Kurt's wrists. His hands were fitted with lace, fingerless gloves and his feet were bare, and his outfit itself was devoid of any fancy pictographs or symbols, leaving his inhuman pale moss green skin to speak for itself. Kurt's eyes, which remained ice blue, stared out from behind a domino mask that was snug to the temples but didn't loop around his head or tie. The shock of green was contrasted nicely by the mess of rusty, yet vibrant copper red and brown of Kurt's hair, which was slick and spiked away from his face in a way that looked rumpled and sexy. 

 

Kurt pushed at Will's face with the edge of his foot, curling his toes around Will's nose in a tight grip as he turned the elder man's head away from his. “It makes me feel powerful.”

 

Kurt hadn't been the only one who had wanted to feel empowered. Dave had outfitted himself as well. Though Dave's clothing varied depending on the day and his mood, it wasn't the clothing that mattered. Dave's “costume” was more of a scare tactic done through something akin to warpaint. Dave had told Kurt a while back that it was a faint homage to a voodoo priest Dave had met after he had left prison, one of the few people who had been kind to him after the harsh realities of the world set in. His eyes were rimmed with dark, smears of back paint that extended down to the tops of his cheeks, black rimmed his mouth, and traced the lines of his nose and jaw. There was white and grey over his forehead, and filling in the meat of his cheeks and chin and in random, jagged lines over his mouth. It was a dark grimace of a skull; hauntingly beautiful and terrifying all at the same time. 

 

“Mike couldn't make it?” Blaine asked conversationally, as if standing in a warehouse with a man bound in plant life was completely normal.

 

“He said if he came that the plan would go to hell because the second he saw Will he'd rip his face off,” Dave replied, glancing at his watch. “And Puck said the same.”

 

“So, what is the plan, anyway?” Artie asked, drumming his fingers impatiently on the side of his arm, he was itching to use his new medicine. 

 

“Sorry I'm late, I was busy fucking Finn like the slut he is.”

 

“Puddin' shh, don't tell them that,” Finn hissed out a whisper through a burst of quiet, shy almost giggles. 

 

Kurt rounded himself on the balls of his feet, looking over at Sam and Finn. They too, had dressed for the occasion – or in Finn's case, undressed. Sam stood in a three piece suit, a deep almost plum shade of purple with a black dress shirt and a brilliant green tie. His blonde hair was slicked back with a gel that made it look tacky and green, his wide, mutilated mouth was smeared with red grease paint in a crooked, sinister grin and deep black rimmed his eyes and melted down slightly over his cheeks. 

 

Finn stood to the left of Sam shirtless and in a pair of loose-legged, tight-assed leather pants. A thick leather collar with a d-ring rested snugly across Finn's throat and were matched by a set of leather cuffs about his wrists. His face was dutifully and painstakingly painted about the eyes and mouth in the familiar style of a harlequin clown. It made Finn look maniacal in a way to match Sam's insanity; but had an almost childish air to it as well. 

 

“Oh,” Jesse's voice echoed in the emptiness of the warehouse. He snorted a laugh and clapped his hands together joyfully. “Oh I get it!”

 

“Shall we leave you to it then?”

 

Sam's mouth twisted up and he flashed his teeth in a smile as he looked down at Will as the vines about his body slithered away. As they burrowed through the thick concrete floor and returned to the earth. He sucked on his teeth in anxious anticipation, his fingers itching, his body shuddering. 

 

“Remember my rule?” Kurt asked, eying Sam through his peripheral. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam muttered dismissively, waving a hand. “Don't kill him.” 

 

Kurt watched with a twisted sense of delight as Will pushed himself back with his hands and feet, crawling backwards away from Sam. “Have fun, gentleman.”

 

With a nod to the others, Kurt followed after Jesse, Blaine and Artie and hooked his arm with Dave as they walked out of the warehouse to leave Sam and Finn to their fun. 

 

Kurt exhaled when they exited the warehouse and the others dispersed, going back to their lives, pleased with the events and Will's punishment. Kurt tipped his head back against the cold metal of the door leading into the warehouse and watched his breath billow into the ink black darkness of the night. 

 

“You okay?”

 

Kurt nodded at Dave's voice but didn't speak.

 

“Need a minute?”

 

Again Kurt nodded his head wordlessly. 

 

As Dave moved off in the direction of the abandoned parking lot, Kurt slid down the wall to crouch on the ground. He removed the mask from his eyes, giving a slight twitch of discomfort as the material separated from his skin and dropped it to the ground. He had finally avenged his mother; found the man who had killed her and had pushed him from a normal life. 

 

Pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes, Kurt squeezed them shut and took in a few large, gulping breaths to keep himself from crying. He felt so relieved. For the first time in years he knew he would finally sleep without nightmares. He was so _tired_. He was so happy. 

 

A scream tore through the door and made him smile. 

 

 _Finally_.

 

Kurt stood and replaced the mask on his face. A surge of confidence and a feeling of renewal burst through him. 

 

Freedom. 

 

He made his way into the parking lot to rejoin Dave. His lover was standing in the middle of the empty space, eyes lifted to the sky. Kurt stopped beside him and followed Dave's line of sight to the bat signal illuminating the night. 

 

“Come on,” Dave urged, tugging Kurt's arm lightly. “Let's go home.”

 

Kurt looked over at Dave at another insistent tug on his arm. “I love you.”

 

Dave paused a moment and Kurt's arm went slack as Dave loosened his grip but didn't let go. “I know.”

 

With another final tug, Kurt started to move again, following after Dave, away from his past. He would finally sleep soundly, with a future in mind.

 

And maybe, finally, push Brittany Pierce in front of a train.


End file.
